Ruthless Reflections
by Artichokie
Summary: The harmless can be deceptive. You don't expect them to turn on you. What happens when they do? How do you stop it? What if you can't? What if you realize you never were really asleep, that the nightmare is your reality? Lily Evans is about to find out.
1. Prologue: Part I

**Ruthless Reflections  
_Prologue:_**_ Part I_

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**Disclaimer:** I own no characters (save for originals), places, terms (again, except for originals), et cetera. They all, respectively, belong to the incredible J. K. Rowling. I am receiving no income by posting this, but only do so because I can. This is fan fiction, and I am merely a fan who loves to write fiction.

**Note:** The prologue is split into two separate parts due to its length. Please be aware of that.

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_"Jealousy is, indeed, a poor medium to secure a love, but it is a secure medium to destroy one's self-respect. For jealous people, like dope-fiends, stoop to the lowest level and, in the end, inspire only disgust and loathing." —__**Emma Goldman**_

Oh, how she hated her.

Miriam Toolage glared into her glass, unknowingly wishing the glass to shatter. Her arms were folded across her slim waist, her glass held up close to her face with her left hand. She stood against the wall, watching the dancers in the middle of the room swirl past. Her mother was at her side, talking to an older woman Miriam had met earlier. She didn't really care to remember the woman's name.

To anyone who would be glancing at her, Miriam appeared to be simply bored and willing to leave her mother's matronly side. Her dark chocolate brown hair was pulled back and pinned to the top of her head in a way that was the current fashion. Small tendrils of hair were left undone purposefully, an attempt to make her seem more willing and lure a possible suitor.

The light blue dress enhanced her features, which were rather lovely on their own. Her dark brown eyes smoldered with a passion in everything she did; she was a very zealous person. She really did love life; there were some things in it that she would rather squash.

Despite her calm veneer, her insides were simmering, near to bursting, even, with barely controlled anger. And it all boiled down to her coquettish sister and her enraging ways.

Mary Toolage was nineteen months younger than Miriam, but one wouldn't have guessed it. The two sisters looked so much alike that many had mistaken them for twins. At first, the thought of them being so had drawn many a-person to their sides, eager to see this strange phenomenon. However, once word got out that they were not, their popularity began to dwindle.

At least, Miriam's popularity had.

Mary, on the other hand, began to thrive. At every ball or party the family had gone to, it was Mary's laugh that haunted Miriam. Even in the loudest and most crowded of places, her humor rang out strong. That was when it all had started.

Miriam wasn't a dunce; she understood that Mary had a special trait in her personality that attained her the attention she loved. Miriam would even admit it, freely and willingly, to anyone who would question about Mary. Mary was a force to reckon with, a sweet force. Miriam only wished it was her with the vibrant personality. She craved the attention, too.

The fact that Miriam had been on the marriage market longer than Mary sent sharp pains into Miriam's chest. This was her third season; Mary was on her second. While Miriam actually _wanted_ to get married—she _wanted_ a family, _wanted_ kids—Mary had repeatedly said that she was averse to the thought. She was a free-floater; she wanted nothing to tie her down.

Then why was it that _she_ was getting all of the luck?

Recently, Mary had become quite cozy with a well-known rake. Lord Kain McCollum had recently inherited his father's title and lands. His sire's last words to him were to marry and produce many kin, so he was a newly found enthusiast on the marriage grounds. Of course, once his eyes landed on Mary, he saw no one else.

Miriam knew that's what had happened, because the same thing happened to her. When she had first seen the man, she had been instantly attracted to him. After a few balls and dances together, she had fallen irrevocably in love. She was now determined to make him her husband.

Of course, things seemed to be progressing quite nicely in that direction until he had met Mary. After that, he had barely paid attention to Miriam. Oh, she had tried to get his attention, get him to dance with her—do anything to keep what was between them alive!—but he was already trapped. Mary had spun her web and caught him for her prey.

Kain's rejection wasn't what hurt the most; it was that Miriam had had a glance at what could have been, and she had started to hope. She had told Mary of her hopes and dreams. Mary had even said she felt that they would suit quite nicely! Miriam had felt so sure of herself . . . and then the b¡tch had to ruin everything.

Mary _had_ to befriend Kain, pull her away from Miriam. She often thought that Mary had been jealous at one time, but quickly learned that Mary never felt that sharp prick. No, she was far too confident; she knew she was beautiful, enticing, and amusing. She used the men's weak constitutions to her advantage. And, right when they thought they had her right where they wanted her, she broke them in half.

Oh, how she hated her.

A cold wind ruffled the skirts of Miriam's dress. She looked up in the direction from which the breeze had flown from and froze. Walking in from a journey on the balcony was Mary and Lord Kain. Although they were at a respectful distance from one another, the green claws of jealousy stroked Miriam's throat.

_That should have been me!_ she thought viciously.

Kain, who had been holding the door opened, caught up with Mary. Catching her right hand, he placed it onto his arm and held it there. Mary smiled at him, a delicate, warm smile that could melt the heart of any cold man. It was no wonder that Kain had fallen for her.

They walked forward and entered the throng of dancing couples. Pulling her into his embrace, Kain began to sway them to the music. It was then that Miriam had lost sight of them within the crowd.

It was their second dance of the evening, her sixth since arriving. Miriam had kept count, only because she hadn't had any of her own dance partners to distract her. No, everyone was too preoccupied with _Mary_, with the pretty smile and bewitching laugh, to even glance at Miriam. It was the moments like this one when Miriam wished Mary would just vanish.

"Mary and Kain make such a handsome couple, don't they, dear?" Miriam's mother said to her.

Miriam turned her body away from the dancing fops and faced her mother. She sighed and shrugged, unsure of what to say. The lady her mother had been talking to saved Miriam from making a comment, however, by saying, "Compliment each other nicely, they do."

With her mother's attention diverted once more, Miriam took that moment to drain her glass in one gulp, uncaring to the consequences. When she turned to look for someone carrying fresh, full wineglasses, Miriam had the misfortune to catch the _handsome_ couple swirl by, both smiling at each other. Suddenly, the urge to throw her crystal glass at her sister filled her.

Quelling it, she vowed that Mary would get her due. She would pay for making Miriam suffer the way she did. Whether Miriam's reaction was justified or not, she didn't stop to think about it. All she knew was that it was Mary's turn to feel pain.

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**End of Prologue: Part I.**


	2. Prologue: Part II

**Ruthless Reflections  
**_**Prologue: **Part II_

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**Warning: **The following section contains mild to extreme violence and mild language. If said things offend you, I suggest that you do not continue reading.

**Note:** As mentioned, the prologue is split up into two separate parts due to its length. This part is quite lengthy, if you haven't yet noticed. I wish I could split it up even more, but, unfortunately, that's now how the prologue was written. This part is one continuous scene and best if read in one sitting. So, if you do wish to read, I'd suggest waiting until you have the time to read it in its entirety.

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The journey home was done in silence. Miriam sat next to the window, staring out at the darkened scenery. She really couldn't see anything; she really didn't care. It was better than having to witness the cheerful glow surrounding her wretched sister.

Miriam had elected to sit alone. Selfish as it sounds, she had been secretly praying she would be able to. At the moment, she wasn't too thrilled with the women folk in her immediate family. Besides, with them sitting in nearly the same seat, it didn't take much muscle power to glare at them both.

Glancing across the carriage at her, Miriam noted that Mary truly did appear to be happy. _What a contrast!_ Miriam cynically mused. Kain hadn't left her sister's side the entire night, and he barely even glanced Miriam's way. Not that Miriam was exactly _watching_ for it; her eyes had been glued to her wineglass whenever the couple came near. No, she only hoped . . . whatever good that did.

Miriam's mother seemed determined to see Mary hitched to the wealthy Lord Kain. She had all-but forgotten his nefarious past and was as jovial as she ever when Kain deigned to speak with the matronly woman. She had laughed at all of his wretched jokes—Miriam merely groaned in pain—and had easily fallen victim to his charm. Even though she scoffed it, Miriam couldn't deny that she had been a little charmed herself.

But, all of that was in the past.

A sharp pain had shot down her spine every time Miriam watched Mary lightly rest her fingers upon his forearm. Miriam's wineglass had nearly shattered when she had had to squeeze her fingers together so tightly just to quell the urge to break every finger in that _dainty_ hand. She wouldn't be surprised that if, in the upcoming weeks, she saw a jewel-crested ring secure on one of those fingers. The urge to break them then would be even headier. And the damage Miriam would cause from denying herself would be greater, that she was sure of.

The carriage rolled to a halt, cutting off the flow of Miriam's thoughts. A dull throbbing had begun in her temples. Realizing that a full-blown headache would be the result, she winced and rubbed her head.

They exited the carriage one-by-one and ascended into their home. The two younger women helped their mother up the stairway, despite her rather tenacious idea that she could make it up the flight of stairs on her own, and led her to her room. They offered to help her further, but she refuted them, literally pushing them out of the door. Resigned, the two girls murmured their goodnights and shut the door behind them.

In the hallway, Mary and Miriam glanced at each other, both of their expressions filled with a completely different emotion, and shrugged.

"Well, that was, certainly, an exciting night. Wouldn't you agree, Miriam?" Mary asked sweetly, walking beside her sister down the hall to their rooms.

"Fabulous," Miriam muttered, glaring at the portraits hanging on the walls.

"I've always been fond of Lady Orvelle's parties, but that one just surpassed my every expectation." A small sigh escaped Mary's mouth. It was big enough to make Miriam cringe.

"You were the belle of the ball, my dear, sweet sister." Miriam didn't even try to hide the acid in her tone. They both knew Miriam was upset; what good would covering it up do? She glanced at Mary. "You always are."

"It's a talent, I suppose," Mary said wistfully. The smile she turned on Miriam, however, was fake; Miriam could see that clearly. Squinting her eyes, Miriam studied her sister. Mary was never fake; she didn't have to be. "Something the matter?" Mary, noting her sister's questioning stare, asked.

Blinking, Miriam murmured, "Nothing." _What could possibly be bothering her?_ Miriam thought as she looked at the floor. She had everything—beauty, appeal . . . Kain. Miriam clinched her teeth. No matter how many times she thought it, it still stung to know that she had been bested by her younger sister.

"I didn't see you dancing much tonight, Miriam," Mary observed, jerking Miriam away from the horrid path her thoughts were taking.

Shrugging, Miriam commented, "I was never spectacular at it, anyway." Back to glaring, she shot a look at her sister. "I noticed you have no problems with it."

"Jealous?" Miriam heard the amusement in Mary's voice, and the call for violence in Miriam only grew stronger. Something must have showed itself in Miriam's face for Mary continued to say, "I'm only joking with you, sister. I do enjoying dancing; it's something I can get lost in. Like you with your books, I suppose." They reached the hallway between their rooms and stopped walking. Each girl was standing directly in front of her door, facing each other. "You never did enjoyed all of this courting business, did you, Miriam?"

"Depends on the partner, I suppose." When Mary didn't reply, Miriam blurted, "Do you fancy Lord Kain? I noticed he's been stuck to your side like a beggar is to the littlest bit of food."

"What a nasty comparison," Mary said, drawing her eyebrows together. Miriam fought to hide her smile; she had meant to be offensive. "I know you fancy Lord Kain." That stung Miriam. "Well, fancied, I should say, for you haven't really _shown_ any attentiveness towards him recently." _Because he's been paying attention to you!_ Miriam nearly shouted.

Mary grew pensive then. Her eyes shot ceiling-ward and her arms crossed in front of her chest. Ready to get this conversation over with, Miriam's hands rested against her hips. She bent one leg in front of her, while keeping the other perfectly straight, and began tapping her slipper-clad foot against the shiny eggshell tile of the hallway.

"I was going to say that anything I say about Lord Kain would probably hurt you," Mary finally said, resting her gaze upon Miriam's cold eyes. "Now that I think about it, you really don't seem to care about the fellow, so I have realized that my concerns were misplaced." She sighed. "I do like Lord Kain, but I'm not about to marry the fellow. I guess you could say it's another one of my . . . _dalliances_ I so frequently have."

Miriam was almost certain that she'd have bruises in the shape of fingertips upon her hips in the morning. Her teeth clinched together violently as she struggled to contain the slight shake in her body. She had figured—had _known_—that Mary was just messing around. The way she admitted it, however, so serenely and contentedly, was just salt on the wound.

"Well, I must say, this conversation has been informative!" Mary said vibrantly.

"Most," Miriam agreed behind clinched teeth.

Ignoring Miriam's apparent anger, she said, "We really should have more of these, dear sister." Wrapping her arms around her sister's tense frame, Mary pulled Miriam into a tight hug. Letting her go, she said, "Goodnight."

Miriam watched her sister turn away from her. She was very elegant in everything she did, Miriam scornfully noted. Even the way she confessed she was simply playing with Kain didn't sound nearly as bad as it was. _The wretch could probably get away with robbery and murder,_ thought she. The notion only made Miriam more furious.

As she opened the door, Mary froze and turned back to her sister. "Just one more thing," she said quietly. "If it's one thing I've learned, never trust a man to show his true emotions. They like to hide what they're thinking and, in return, play a little. Don't hate them for it." With a smug smile, Mary completed her journey into her room and shut the door calmly behind her.

Standing where her sister left her, Miriam toyed with Mary's comment. Was she making an excuse for the men or herself? Miriam couldn't decide between the two options. The haughty smile at the end, however, made her fury grow even hotter.

Her head, still throbbing, now felt like it had a nail jammed into her right temple. Her teeth were clinched so tightly together, she was sure that they'd be cracking and falling out at any moment. To anyone passing, if the off-chance presented itself, she would look like a very realistic statue, her body was that taut with anger.

_It was Mary's turn to feel pain._

Her earlier thought came back at her full force. It was time, and the pain would be excruciating. Dark thoughts raced in and out of Miriam's head, some even disturbing her in her hate-induce state. She would pay for ever meeting Kain—although that was probably Miriam's fault, she was far too blind in her anger to truly acknowledge it. Even if she had, the list went on and on inside of her inner tirade.

Baring her teeth, she let out an unconscious growl as she reached for her sister's door. She nearly threw the door off of its hinges as she barged her way in. It banged against the wall, but Miriam paid it no heed. She stood in the doorway like a monster from hell.

"I hate you," Miriam growled. Her hands curling into fists, she took satisfaction in the fact that her sister was afraid.

Mary, who had been sitting on her vanity stool and had begun to remove the pins from her dark hair, now stood facing Miriam with not even six feet separating them. Her brown eyes were wide, her face missing most of its normal vibrancy. Her body had begun to tremble slightly, Mary desperately trying to hide it.

Without a care, Miriam slammed her sister's door shut and lunged for Mary. With her fury adding strength to her normally meek arms, Miriam's fist contacted with Mary's cheek with such a force that sent her sprawling on the rug-covered floor. Mary landed on her stomach, the air in her chest coming out in a great gust. Her hands were folded beneath her in a way to absorb most of the impact.

She wasn't even given the chance to catch her breath.

Miriam jumped on top of her fallen sister and ruthlessly twisted her onto her back. Straddling her sister's waist, she began to smack, punch, scratch—whatever she could manage, so long as she hit her sister's _perfect_ face. Miriam was panting from the exertion, knowing that she was out of control; Mary was struggling to catch her sister's hands and stop the beating. Both were too weak to do either.

She wasn't aware of what she was doing. The only thing Miriam could focus on was the pain, the never-ending pain. She was fed-up with hiding it, of trying to control it. She let it consume her, let it control her. A red haze filled her vision.

She could hear Mary's cries of pain, but it only helped to fuel her anger. It enlightened her heart to see the bitch suffering. It caused some selfish side of her to grin at her blatant agony. It tickled her to see her sister's smile turn into a frown.

With each _crack_ of flesh upon flesh, with each red line appearing on Mary's face drawn by Miriam's nails, with each cry pulled from her sister's bleeding lips, deeper Miriam's rage flowed. She was drowning in it. Tightness formed in her chest, but she welcomed it; it was a sign of exertion, proof that she was releasing other tensions she had suffered too long with. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and her own panting was becoming more and more obvious to her, but she ignored it.

Miriam's hands latched onto Mary's hair. She yanked as hard as she could, unaware that she shouted, "I wish you would die," enunciating each word with a ruthless tug. Brown strands stuck to Miriam's fingers, curling around each knuckle like a vine. Mary grasped her wrist and tried to pull free Miriam's grasp, but only managed to cause herself more pain.

Letting out a yell, Mary let go of Miriam's wrist. She swung out her open palm and made contact with the side of Miriam's cheek. Stunned by the blow, she paused in her tugging. Mary saw her chance and shoved Miriam off of her. The girl fell backwards onto the floor, her elbows receiving most of the impact.

Panting, Miriam rolled to her side and pushed herself up. Once on her feet again, she turned and stared down at her handiwork. Mary's lip was bleeding profusely, and her eye would be bruised in the morning. Her hair, once a luxurious stream of chocolate, now wouldn't be called anything but hideous. Strands stuck out at odd angles from her head while a mass of it hung over her shoulder in a giant knot. A feeling of satisfaction coursed through Miriam's body.

Leaning back on one elbow, Mary raised a hand to her face and rubbed her jaw, a few scrapes visible on her elegant fingers. Miriam could read a question in Mary's eyes, and she understood it plainly. She hadn't meant to lose control as she had, but time couldn't be turned back now. If she were honest, saying that she felt guilty over the outburst would be a lie.

"Do you think hurting you makes me feel good?" Miriam asked incredulously. She raised her arm to wipe her cheek and noticed the sleeve of her glove was now stained red. Silently cursing, she said in almost a shout, "Do you think I like causing you pain?" Mary didn't answer; she only watched her sister cautiously. "Well, I don't!"

Mary reached over and picked up a dark piece of cloth that had fallen onto the floor during their battle. Dabbing it gently against her swollen lip, she asked quietly, "Then, why are you?"

Spreading her arms away from her person, she spat, "What other choice do I have?"

Mary sat up straight, dropping the cloth into her lap. "Many—" she tried to say.

"Wrong!" She crossed her arms across her chest.

Mary stared up at her sister, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "I don't understand." She stood then, her hands on her hips. Her eyes never left her sister's furious face just as the question never left her own. "What did I do to you? I don't understand this madness!"

"What did you do?" A mirthless laugh escaped Miriam's mouth. Keeping one arm folded across her chest, one hand still latched to the other arm, she raised her right hand and pointed at Mary. "You, dear, _beloved_ sister," said Miriam nastily, "stole everything I had ever strived to achieve in life! You stole my reputation, my spotlight . . . the only man I ever wanted to marry!"

"Who—" Mary tried to ask.

"Don't act dense, you whore!" Miriam took a step closer to her sister, her outstretched hand folding into a fist. "You know who I'm speaking of!"

The confused look only deepened upon Mary's face. "Kain?"

"Of course Kain, you insolent bitch!"

Slowly, as the realization hit her, Mary's face began to relax. "You want to marry Kain?"

"Honestly!" Miriam threw her arms up in exasperation. "You fail to convince me of your ignorance. Who else did you think?"

Mary clasped her hands together in front of her body, her eyes wide with excitement. "Oh, this is fabulous!" A grin spread across her lips. "I had thought you did, but you were so cold! He came to me when you first became unresponsive to his—"

"And you just welcomed him with open arms, didn't you?" Miriam didn't bother hiding the scorn for her sister from her tone.

Mary's bottom jaw opened in closed, refusing to work. The smile was wiped clean from her face and her hands fell limply to her side. Finally, she managed to say slowly, "Well . . . I mean, of course." Her eyebrows drew together once more. "He was so distraught! Would you rather have me turn him away?"

Miriam took another step closer, now invading Mary's space. "Yes!" she shouted. "If it hadn't been for you, he would have continued fighting for my attention!"

"No, he—" Mary attempted to say, but Miriam wasn't hearing any of it.

"Yes, he would have. You _know_ he would have!" she stated emphatically. An idea formed in Miriam's head, her mouth falling open and a small cynical smile forming on her mouth. "You were jealous, weren't you? That's why you stole him away!"

"He wants—"

Miriam's eyes widened with understanding. She pointed at Mary and took another step closer. "You couldn't stand competing with me, is that it? Didn't want to share the spotlight?"

"You—"

Dropping her arm and replacing her smile for a sneer, she said icily, "Lucky for you, you won't have to worry about that much longer!" Miriam let out a hollow laugh. "You'll be the only one basking in the spotlight on the stage you'll be performing on!"

"Shut _up_!" Mary yelled as she pushed Miriam away from her. Miriam stumbled across the room, her arms flailing at her sides. She landed against the wall with a soft gasp escaping her mouth, her right arm narrowly missing a large floor mirror standing in front of the wall. "Miriam," Mary said softly, her voice hoarse; "would you at least listen to me?"

"No!" Miriam shouted, pushing off of the wall and running towards her sister. She shoved Mary roughly with her right shoulder. Mary, mimicking Miriam's movements of just a moment ago, stumbled backward and tripped over her vanity stool. With her feet flying over her head, she fell backwards and hit the wood flooring.

Mary quickly moved her legs from off of the stool and folded them on the ground before her. She placed her hands on the floor in front of her for support and pleadingly looked up at Miriam's incensed expression. "You're making a dreadful mistake!" she cried.

Miriam scoffed. "The only mistake I ever made was allowing you to walk all over me!"

Mary got to her feet quickly, her eyes never leaving her sister. Miriam could see the confusion warring with fear in her sister's eyes. They were ever open, ever expressive. It was another thing Mary couldn't stand. It was what lured all of the men to her, Mary's sense of innocence and honesty.

"What?" Mary asked in confusion.

Ignoring her, Miriam took two steps and was a mere foot from her sister. Baring her teeth, she growled, "But not anymore!" Without thinking, Miriam reached into her right glove and retrieved a polished wooden stick. Immediately recognizing the object, Mary's eyes widened with horror.

"What are you doing with that?" she hissed frantically, now eyeing the wand. "You know Mother forbids the use of magic in the city!"

Miriam smirked. "Well, it's a very good thing Mother is at the opposite end of the house, isn't it?"

"I'll scream!" Mary warned, raising her voice far above the level of her previous whisper. She took a step towards the bedroom door. "She'll be here within minutes!"

"Don't kid yourself!" Miriam sneered as she quickly followed her sister. "You know Mother can't move that fast." Insinuating herself between Mary and the door, Miriam pointed her wand at her sister. "Besides, I won't give you the chance to scream, let alone make a single squeak!"

Taking pleasure in the blatant paling of Mary's face, Miriam couldn't hide the menacing smile that had been lurking beneath her frustration. She knew what Mary was thinking; they both knew of the Killing Curse. They both knew that, at this moment, Miriam could probably successfully perform the spell. Miriam wasn't done torturing her sister, however. No, she hadn't suffered enough. Not quite yet.

Raising her wand, Miriam shouted, "_Silencio!_"

Mary stumbled backwards as the spell hit her. She caught herself against the wall next to the door, her hands braced tensely along the wall. Mary stood there as if frozen, her lower jaw hanging limply from her head. She stared at Miriam, shock glittering in her eyes. Silence was her enemy; she couldn't stand it, everyone knew that. Unable to control her mirth, Miriam smirked as she slowly brought her wand down to point at the floor.

Unlike Mary, Miriam enjoyed silence, especially when it meant she wouldn't have to hear her sister's shrill voice. No, not shrill; that was too caustic of a word. Mary's voice was quite lovely and soft, if Miriam was honest. It was another reason everyone wanted to befriend Mary, her friendly tone never faltering. It was another reason Miriam cringed when no one was paying attention. Despite it all, Miriam had been itching to silence her sister for months.

Miriam took a step towards Mary, who remained frozen where she stood. Cocking her head, her eyes mocking the shocked expression in her sister's eyes, Miriam said quietly, "Can you hear it? It's a refreshing sound, is it not? Silence." A soft cackle escaped Miriam's lips as she took a step closer to Mary.

Miriam reached a hand out and covered one of Mary's cheeks. "Oh, poor little Mary. How will you ever survive without uttering a single word? My heart almost breaks for your predicament—_almost_," Miriam emphasized. "However, I'll save that for the brainless oafs we call 'friends' in this society."

Miriam began to pull her hand away, but stopped just as her palm hovered near Mary's chin. Miriam noticed a cut that was beginning to form a wound beneath the surface of Mary's cheek. Pulling her gaze back to her sister's frozen eyes, Miriam taunted, "Does that hurt?"

Miriam lightly skimmed the bruise with her thumb and then started applying pressure. Mary winced and pulled away; Miriam choked back the laugh that invaded her throat. Allowing her hand to hover, she said in an ironically sweet tone, "I was beginning to believe you thought yourself to be frozen. A pathetic mistake to make, I agree," Miriam added hastily when her sister's cold stare began to thaw. "But you do have your moments. Oh, do close your mouth, Mary."

Miriam's hand contacted with her sister's chin. She roughly pushed upwards, closing Mary's mouth, the sound of her teeth clamping together echoing in the silence of the room. Pulling her hand away, Miriam stated nonchalantly, "Even in this dead of night, I'm afraid the flies would have started collecting before long."

Miriam's hand barely reached her side when Mary's open-palm hand landed soundly against Miriam's bruised and battered cheek. Miriam's head flew sideways in the direction of the blow, her hand coming up reflexively to cover the point of impact. The ringing of flesh meeting flesh resounded in the room.

Neither sister moved. The tables had turned; it was Mary who was entrapped by rage and Miriam who was frozen in shock. Both were panting through clinched teeth.

Slowly, Miriam straightened and faced Mary, her hand dropping from her face to her side. Mary stood akimbo, her fingers digging sharply into the fabric at her hips. A small sliver of white was exposed between two tightly-drawn, bloodless lips. Instead of the frozen look in her eyes, an inferno was burning in their depths. If looks could kill, Miriam would be laying limp at Mary's feet.

Miriam was dealing with her own rage, now that the shock had worn off. _The little bitch!_ She narrowed her eyes on Mary and clinched her teeth together hard enough that she was afraid they'd shatter. Her cheek stung fiercely, combining with the pains from the wounds Mary had previously inflicted. Miriam had been numb to the throbbing of her battered body, but not anymore. Thanks to Mary, she was crudely awakened to her tattered condition. Forcing the pain to the back of her mind, she threw her own flames at her fuming sister.

Mary had caught the glimpse of pain in her sister's hard eyes, Miriam was sure of it. Mary's lips slowly spread into a mocking grin. Soon, she would be laughing—or, that is, _wishing_ she could laugh. Remembering Mary's current predicament, Miriam had to fight back a cackle of her own. She focused on Mary's infuriating smile.

"Think that was funny, do you?" Miriam asked in a low, cold tone. Mary nodded without hesitation, mirth quickly hiding the flames of ire in her eyes. Miriam knew she was still angry; Mary excelled at hiding her darker emotions.

"I'll bet your handprint is now branding my cheek." Another nod. This time, Mary brought a hand up to conceal her mouth. By the upward movement of the skin covering her cheeks, Miriam knew she was grinning. Miriam's eyes narrowed even more.

"What if I were to do the same to you?" Miriam quickly brought a hand up in striking position. Mary subtly flinched, but Miriam caught it. She grinned. "Would you think it funny then?"

Mary opened her mouth to say something. _Finally!_ Miriam thought viciously. She had been trying to provoke Mary into speaking. Mary was easy to distract, Miriam had learned over the years. The only way to get back at Mary was not with violence, at least not in this instance . . .

Mary's lips moved, but not a single sound came out. She stopped, the humor instantly disappearing from her face. A hand strayed up and gently rubbed her throat. Miriam couldn't help it; a cold laugh boomed out from her chest. It was such a relief to laugh this hard! Miriam hadn't been this amused in years; she had almost believed she was incapable of it.

Miriam bent forward, her hands resting on her knees. Her wand dug into her palm, but she didn't really feel it. Her laughter would not cease. Her stomach muscles began to burn. Ah, but the burn was sweet! Tears began streaming down her face from her tightly closed eyes.

So intense was her amusement that Miriam failed to notice her sister's mounting indignation. Her face was a maroon mask of fury, death written in her eyes. Both of Mary's hands were balls at her sides, blood trickling down from the insides of her tightly coiled fingers. Her nails were digging into the palms of her hands, but she paid it no heed.

If Miriam had been even slightly less amused, she might have noticed Mary switching her weight from foot to foot impatiently. Mary was aching to strike. Every muscle in her body was tense with the need.

Mary's foot made contact with Miriam's side. On a shocked sound, Miriam flew sideways and landed halfway on Mary's bed. Her waistline caught the wood bed frame, knocking the air out of her. Miriam's knees made contact with the hardwood floor. If her eyes weren't already squeezed closed, they were now.

Coughing, Miriam turned around to face her sister, her arms holding up her weak body as her legs failed to work. She didn't have time to think about anything, however. Mary was beside her in a flash, her hands grabbing at her hair. Miriam was flung against the opposite wall, her right shoulder catching most of the impact. Slumping against the wall, Miriam unconsciously dropped her wand. She was in too much pain to care.

Mary, not missing a beat, was picking Miriam up by her arms, her anger adding the necessary strength. Stabilizing Miriam with one hand on Miriam's shoulder, Mary smacked her sister once more, this time on the opposite cheek. Miriam, too weak at the moment to fight back, fell to the floor with a groan.

Looking at the floor, Mary saw her sister's wand. She bent and picked it up. Straightening, she observed the object as if she had never seen a wand before. A plan was formulating in her mind.

"And what are you going to do with that?" Miriam asked, slowly sitting up. She was panting, but not more so than Mary. Newly made and reopened wounds on Miriam's body bled, causing her face and gown to be streaked with blood. She refused to dwell on it.

Mary raised her eyebrows in a disbelieving fashion. "You can't speak, and you can't perform spells without speaking." Mary's angered face turned disbelieving. "You know you can't! You've tried it in the past, remember? I was unfortunate enough to be made a witness and, in some cases, a victim of such incidents." Mary blew air sharply out from her nostrils; Miriam recognizing it as the impatient reaction that it was. Impatient herself, Miriam said firmly, "Just give it back." Miriam held out a hand, but Mary only stared at it.

Miriam saw the narrowing of Mary's eyes as she once more examined the wand. Miriam knew what she was thinking. Mary had accepted that she could not perform spells, Miriam decided, and she had also realized that Miriam wasn't in any mood to be revoking the spell—doubted she ever would. However, there were still ways to control the enemy. Miriam knew that Mary could destroy the wand if she wanted to. When their eyes clashed again, they saw their own thoughts reflected in the eyes of their sister.

_Watch me_, Mary's eyes taunted.

_Like hell you will!_ Miriam's shouted.

Mary lifted the wand in both hands above her head. She stared at Miriam, her mirth returning. Slowly blinking, she smiled and looked up to the wand. Miriam, seeing it all in slow motion, watched Mary's hands began to descend just as her knee started to rise.

With strength unknown to her prior, Miriam pushed herself up off of the floor and lunged at her sister. Before Mary was successful in snapping the wand in two, Miriam had her pinned tightly against the wall. Miriam grabbed her sister's wand hand and slammed it against the wall, her fingers tightening around Mary's wrist. Mary refused to release the wand.

"Let go!" Miriam growled. Mary shook her head and attempted to bite the hand that held her wrist.

Baring her teeth, Miriam pressed her thumb tightly against the delicate blue vein that was easily visible beneath the porcelain skin covering Mary's wrist. Mary cringed, and her facial muscles tensed. If Mary could have made a sound, Miriam was sure she would have enjoyed the pitiful groan as it escaped her sister's throat.

Mary's hand soon lost its grip on the wand and it fell onto the floor. Mary pushed at Miriam, but she wouldn't budge. Mary's foot came down upon Miriam's toes, causing her to flinch. In that time, Mary switched their positions so that it was Miriam who was pinned. Miriam was in no mood to be conquered, however.

She shoved Mary backwards. The force was so fierce that, when Mary's back hit her own vanity stand, the loose contents sitting upon it fell onto the floor. A hand-held mirror first hit the floor on one of its corners, shattering the glass. The glass fell out of its frame and clattered to the floor, breaking into even more pieces.

Both girls froze. While the sound wasn't piercing, it was enough to wake up a few people in the household. Miriam struggled to come up with a reasonable explanation should someone appear to investigate. She knew all of this was her fault, and she wouldn't be able to dissuade anyone from thinking it, especially with her sister's speaking privileges revoked. Miriam briefly entertained the thought of lifting the spell, but quickly quelled it. If someone came, she would, but only then; she was quick enough to do so, she knew.

Luckily, no one was coming. Unfortunately for Miriam, Mary had realized that fact before she had and was already going for the wand. Thinking fast, Miriam stepped on it just as Mary's fingers wrapped around it. Mary's teeth clattered together as she tried to remove her hand, but Miriam just added more pressure. When Mary barred her teeth, Miriam could almost hear the growl her sister wanted to utter. Before another thought could enter her head, however, Miriam's own teeth clinched together, an agonized hiss escaping from between her teeth.

Mary's teeth grasped onto the side of Miriam's foot. Quelling a bellow of pain, Miriam kicked out and made contact with the underside of Mary's chin. Mary came up to her knees, her hands encircling her neck.

Miriam's foot was now bleeding, her skin baring the marks of Mary's perfect little teeth. She was glad she had kicked the tramp. She only wished she had aimed a little higher.

One of Mary's hands shot out and grabbed Miriam's ankle. She pulled it forward, causing Miriam to lose her balance. Miriam landed on her backside, her arms splayed out beside her. She watched as Mary, still clutching her neck with one hand, slid forward on her stomach towards the wand.

Miriam glanced at the wand and knew she wouldn't be able to reach it. She rolled onto her stomach and extended her arm towards it. Her fingertips barely touched it. She pushed her body forward and flicked the wand away just as Mary's hand landed on top of Miriam's. The wand skidded across the floor, moving beneath Mary's bed, and rolled to a stop against the wall furthest from the sisters.

Ignoring the wand for now, Miriam reached for her sister's shoulders and flipped her onto her back. Miriam straddled Mary's waist. Mary bucked beneath Miriam, but Miriam managed to stay on top. Lifting one hand, Miriam swiped the back of her hand across Mary's face. It did nothing to quell Mary's attempts to unseat her sister. Mary's hands shot out and grabbed onto the cloth covering Miriam's waist and tugged, trying to pull Miriam to the ground.

But Miriam was having none of that. Grabbing her sister's wrists, Miriam pinned them to the ground, one in each hand. She lifted each knee, one at a time, and placed them strategically upon each of Mary's wrists. Mary's hands instantly clinched to fists and she didn't cease bucking her hips; Miriam growled low in her throat in frustration.

Miriam glanced around her, looking for a way to quell her sister's movements. She noticed the shards of glass from the broken hand mirror scattered on the floor near the two sisters. Careful not to lift her knees off of her sister's wrists even a fraction of an inch, Miriam quickly reached across the small space separating her from the shards and grabbed the first piece she could.

The piece was a good size, conveniently broken with a sharp edge. Miriam had no idea what she wanted to do to her sister, but she knew she wanted to torture Mary. Torturing her had always been her initial plan. But eventually—eventually—Miriam would have to do something with her. For now, however . . .

Miriam brought the shared up to Mary's face and let the point rest against her left cheek just below her eye socket. Mary's struggles ceased quickly as her eyes darted down to Miriam's hand. Miriam knew Mary couldn't see the tip, and the wariness in her sister's eyes instantly brought a snide grin to Miriam's face.

Gently, Miriam eased the glass into Mary's skin. A pool of blood quickly formed around the shard and started sliding down Mary's cheek. Mary flinched, her left eye closing in reaction to the pain. Miriam slowly twisted the shard, embedding it as deep as it would go, creating a crater in Mary's face.

Mary and Miriam's gazes collided briefly. In that moment, Mary could see the sadistic glee in Miriam's eyes. Miriam saw her sister's eyes grow wide with fear once more. Miriam knew that the sight of her sister's fear would never grow old.

Her grin deepening, Miriam shrugged off her sister's fear. She began sliding the glass along Mary's cheekbone, the shard still in Mary's skin. Mary's mouth opened in a silent gasp. Rivers of blood now slid down the side of Mary's face, most falling onto the floor. Some of it followed the planes of Mary's face and seeped into Mary's open mouth. At the first taste of her own blood, Mary gagged and instantly closed her mouth. Miriam could almost hear her sister's teeth grinding together.

Without warning, Mary bucked once, almost toppling Miriam the floor. Miriam's hand lost its steadiness and shot up along Mary's face, almost reaching her eye. Another centimeter and the shard would have punctured Mary's eye. Mary's stiffness told Miriam that her sister was very aware of what could have happened.

"Ooh, careful, dear sister," Miriam said softly, bringing the tip of the shard back to its original path; "wouldn't want to lose an eye, now would we?" Mary's huffed out air through her nose.

In the next moment, Miriam saw Mary's eyes begin to fill with tears she had been so valiantly suppressing. Soft droplets eased out of Mary's sockets and trickled down her cheek, some seeping into the now bleeding wounds Miriam had just inflicted with the shard. Mary's body flinched involuntarily as her wounds began to sting with the salt from her shed tears. Miriam grinned.

Miriam resumed carving into Mary's cheek, slowly bringing the shard along Mary's bone. When her face started to curve downward, Miriam changed her direction and drew a half circle up Mary's face. Miriam stopped just outside of Mary's socket.

Without warning, Mary managed to slide one of her wrists out from underneath Miriam's knee. She grabbed Miriam's wrist and yanked it away from her own face. Mary's grasp tightened on Miriam's, the thumb of her padding pushing into that delicate vein on the underside of Miriam's wrist, learning from her sister's earlier use of the technique. Miriam tried to dislodge her sister's grasp with her other hand, but Mary was tenacious. Eventually, the shard slipped from Miriam's fingers and landed on the ground in one piece. Mary quickly picked up the piece and embedded it deeply into the muscle in Miriam's upper arm.

Letting out a cry, Miriam grasped her wounded arm, holding it tightly. Tears sprang to her eyes—tears of both anger and pain. While Miriam was momentarily distracted, Mary used this moment to buck her sister off of her. Miriam fell onto her side, her wounded arm cushioning her fall. More pain erupted at the puncture site. With her eyes squeezed shut, Miriam slowly pried the glass out of her arm. Three-fourths of the shard was covered in Miriam's blood; more of the red liquid oozed down her arm, staining the fabric covering her skin.

Miriam haphazardly tossed the shard over her shoulder. She heard it hit the wall and assumed it shattered when the sound of multiple pieces hitting the hardwood floor met her ears. Uncaring about the stupid mirror piece, Miriam levered herself up with her good arm and sought her sister's form.

Mary had managed to get on her hands and knees and was now crawling around the bed toward the opposite wall. Miriam knew the wand was situated on the other side of the bed. Letting out an angry growl, Miriam quickly jumped to her feet and leaped onto the bed. Looking down, she spotted the wand just as Mary reached it. Mary's skinny fingers wrapped around the object and snatched it up off the ground.

Miriam was beyond caring now. She was tired of this hide-and-seek game they were playing. It was time to end it, she decided; she'd had her fun.

Jumping down off of the bed, Miriam landed directly before Mary's hunched over body. Miriam kicked out at her sister once more, this time planting her cloth-covered toes directly into the side of Mary's face, right below her newest wound. The force of the blow sent Mary reeling against the wall, her head hitting the side once more. Miriam grabbed the wand from her sister's weak grasp and stood towering over her. She kicked her in the throat for good measure, making Mary gasp with the loss of breath.

"I'm sick of you!" Miriam growled. She placed the wand on the bed and bent over her sister. Grasping Mary by the collar of her dress with her good hand, Miriam pulled her upright with a strength neither of them knew she had. With a low growl, Miriam sent Mary flying across the room, Mary landing on her stomach in the middle of the floor next to her own standing mirror. Miriam swiftly walked over to her, picking up her wand as she did so. Flipping Mary onto her back, Miriam stood over the weak female she was disgustingly forced to call "Sister".

"And now, I'm done with you," Miriam remarked snidely. A smirk contorted her hardened features as she pointed her wand squarely at Mary's chest. In a deceptively calm voice, Miriam said, "_Novercalis Speculum._"

A white light shot out from the end of Miriam's wand and hit Mary in her chest. Mary's body jerked upward before it began to levitate above the ground. Slowly it rose until nearly a foot of space separated her from her own bedroom's wooden flooring. A silvery glow began to spread over Mary's frozen form as though a shield protecting her. But it wasn't, Miriam knew. Miriam took a step back and watched her spell do its job.

Mary's body turned right-side up, her back facing the mirror. Mary's feet dangled beneath her mere inches from the floor; her arms lay limply at her sides, the glow now encasing her entire body. Miriam caught Mary's eyes; they weren't filled with bewilderment as Miriam had suspected they would be, but rather calm fear. Mary didn't know what was happening to her, why she was glowing, or what was about to come, but it was as if she had accepted something evil was happening. She feared it, as would anyone, but she was accepting of it.

Suddenly, Mary's body jerked backward, her arms and feet flailing out in front of her as if a hand had grabbed her about the waist and pulled her. Her body was dragged closer and closer towards the mirror, her eyes never leaving her sister's.

Then, as if the glass had turned to liquid, Mary's body began to enter the mirror. Ripples pooled out from the point of impact on the glassy surface. Her image became distorted as it became submerged, Mary's body disappearing into the mirror. Her fingers were the last to go as her arms were floating listlessly in front of her.

When the ripples subsided, Mary's body straightened, but she didn't try to struggle and break her way free. Miriam knew she wouldn't. The spell prevented any kind of movement from within the mirror. Once inside, the victim was emotionless, their only movements the blinking of their eyelids. If one looked closely, they could see an expression in the victim's eyes.

Miriam did look close enough, and she did see an emotion spewing from her sister's eyes. Mary was livid—and rightfully so. She finally understood what was happening to her. Surely not fully, but enough to know that there was nothing she could do. Mary was trapped within the mirror, forced to spend an eternity gazing languidly out. Some could see her; most would never.

Miriam gave a half-smile to her lethargic sister, swaying her hips casually as she took slow steps towards the mirror. Mary's body was badly beaten, her body covered with cuts and bruises. The most striking injury was the jagged line cutting across her left cheek, blood still coursing down Mary's pale cheeks. Mary's hair was a tangled mess, forming a crown about her head. She looked miserable; Miriam was pleased.

Miriam pressed a finger against the now solid, cool glass. She traced Mary's cold face, the first genuine smile appearing on her lips. "Happy haunting," Miriam said cheerfully to her sister's reflection. With the deed done, Miriam walked steadily to the door, her wand in hand. She turned the knob and swung the door open. Before quitting the room, Miriam turned back to the mirror in time to see her dejected sister slowly fading into the silver background, never again to be seen unless summoned. And Miriam wasn't even sure _that_ was possible.

Miriam glanced about the room and noted the destruction. She knew the many conclusions people would come up with, most blaming Miriam. Her disgust of her sister wasn't apparent, but everyone knew there was some sort of discord between the siblings. And with Miriam looking the way she did, it wouldn't be hard for people to make the connection. Thinking fast, Miriam came up with a ploy—a tale that, while being somewhat questionable, could be pulled off with just the right amount of dramatics.

Miriam reached with her right hand and yanked at her sleeve. The fabric tore at the seam and hung loosely off of her body, still connected to the dress by one or two thin strands. She ran her nails down her arms, drawing beads of blood in some places. Miriam barely felt the pain, her body already numb from previous inflictions. She reached down and began to tear holes into the bodice and skirt of her gown. She proceeded to add more scratches onto her legs and chest, just for effect. She kicked of a shoe and threw it on the opposite side of the room, it landing on the floor beneath the solitary window.

Miriam glanced at the mirror again, thinking she could still see her sister's outline. It wouldn't take long before the world learned of Mary's disappearance. The times ahead would try Miriam's patience, but she would persevere. Wasn't she already used to society fawning over her sister?

Her dress thoroughly destroyed, Miriam turned and walked into the hallway, stopping just outside of her sister's room. With a melodramatic sigh, Miriam wiped the smile from her face and let out a wail that echoed throughout the house. Miriam heard footsteps on the staircase just as the first forced teardrop slipped down her cheek. Inwardly, Miriam grinned as she thought, _This is going to be fun._


End file.
